Adebelle

I can’t remember when was the last time I post something up here. Everyday is my personal battle with time. Well, some said you have to make time for yourself for time does not make time for you. I said fair enough but a tired mind after a long day at work yearns nothing more than a hot shower and beckoning bed! Really, anything else can wait but sleep. Alas, sleep can always wait when there’s work to be done. Now you wonder if I work to live or live to work ; live to die or work to die. Darn, this is getting all too depressive! STOP!

Bah! Today I decided to turn a blind eye and a deaf ear to work! It’s time to take a moment or two to reflect. A quiet Saturday afternoon seems too perfect. I feel like I’ve been living out on a fast lane for the past 2 months. No slowing down or I’d be crashed and burned. Ironically, if I don’t slow down, the first organ fails would be my bladder! Poor little bladder. I’d love to smack whoever that say life is a bed of roses. I think they must have forgotten about the thorns!

Oh dear me, this much angst and anguish I have when I talk about work. Little did I realise I’m slowly turning into a slave, in the name of work and since when have I become so bitter about life. That is if work = life. Arrrrgh, I ought to get some life back! Someone please, please stop me from babbling.

Ok, pardon me for a moment of insanity. Let’s get serious. I’ve gotta exude more positive aura! So yeah, to cut to the chase, I’m stressed out and washed out. I don’t know what keep me sane but by disecting my feelings so openly right now, I can only guess that I am still pretty sane.

The truth is, despite the stress and a few silent curses I am grateful for all the crazy things that happened around me. This is not a war nor violence I’m talking about. If you haven’t quite followed this entry, I am freaking b***hing about my imbalanced work life balance. If I will myself strong enough, I could almost see the good that will come out of all these sufferings in the end. Well, the good has gotta come out! I am so going to make sure of that. I think I am just a tad bit weird by constantly talking to myself but hey, if I don’t talk to my own soul, who will?

Anyways, you know I am not religious religious but pretty religious. I believe in God trully and completely. In time like this (I call it my personal turbulent time) there is no being whom I trust more than Him. No one love to be tested but God is also testing us; not to see if we are any good for anything but to prepare us for the greater things in life. I stumbled, I fumbled and I found my feet again. I walked in the dark, alone and scared but slowly, I found the light and no longer alone. I am now walking with steady steps, knowing confidently that the greater things are within my reach. It’s almost corny but everything happens for a reason and the reason if up to you to discover. I have discovered mine.

Now I know. A leader can never be a leader if he/she never led. To lead is to shoulder heavier responsibility. To lead is to be led. To lead is to teach and to teach is to learn. Through the experience, I confirm the strength I knew I have; I relish my new found forte and metier and most importantly, I recognise my weeknesses and limitations. I have never come to know myself so completely. In the pursuit of greater height, one tends to get lost in what’s real inside and assume what’s fake from the outside. A good thing I know clearly who I am and who I want to be. This always keeps me on my toes. I shall always be true and honest to myself. This is a little vow I make for me.

Now I stand as a 24 year-old and looking back my life, I can stand proudly and say I have make a 24 year-old proud! Good things come to those who wait. I finally can’t agree more to that. My turn has come. Bring on the tide!

Life at a quarter decade must be bright and shinning simply because life at 24 is a brilliance itself!

A toast to all the young girls who are making their mark and presence felt in the world, to all the girls who are making their mother proud by standing tall and strong in the face of challenges and to all the girls who are now soaring in the big blue sky!

I have been seeking high and low, left and right, in and out long enough. I am on a quest searching for a full stop. I call it my little black magical dot. Far too many times I let myself dwell in the past, sickly indulging the forbidden memories; fiercely provoking yet another painful sensation that cuts through my soul like it was never mine. I anticipated hot tears to warm my cold cold face only to find nothingness. Oh I must have forgotten, it was a long time ago when I cried a river… All the tears had turned into ashes and they never since found their way back to the tear duct.

I said to myself, "Closures, you need a closure." So closures I created, many of them. It slipped my mind again. For every full stop that I drew, I had erased each and every of them with a giant eraser. I heard you, "Don’t use a pencil then, silly girl! Use a pen!" You know, mind is a powerful thing. Immediately a  correction pen is created. Off you go, you pathetic little black dot.

But I insisted. I need that closure. I want it now. Haven’t I waited long enough?! Seemingly putting life on hold for a make-believe. But it sound so true! Perhaps it could be for real this time? I know you think I am nuts at this point. I wish I were. But I am more sane that ever. Yeah, very sane and extremely weak. They said, "Out of sight, out of mind." Wait! What if it’s forever etched in mind eyes?! Should I then go completely blind and totally insane to get rid of it?

I am still searching for that closure which should have been there a long time ago. But I made do with the little closures I created. Forcedly, I blinded my eyes so that I could smell the freshly cut grass, hear the nightingale and breath again. I was happy then but it was short-lived. When all the magic faded into the darkness of the night, when it came to mind once again, I found myself staring into the space, silently commanding a failed attempt to feel indiferent.

My faith is weavering. Maybe there isn’t any closure. Maybe it was there all this time and I chose to be oblivious so that I can carry on dreaming. You see, big dreamer I am. Also, a foolish one. Maybe there is only one way. I shall bury my own hatchet. Maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s not about closure. Maybe I just want to hear it, the words, the end.

All the angels in the sky, forever peace I seek, eternity serenity I plead. Make me free again!

I had a pretty ‘interesting’ conversation with a friend whom I hadn’t been keeping in touch with since I left uni.

Friend: You don’t have nice things to say about me.
Ade: It’s not like you have nice things to say about me either.
Friend: I do…
Ade: Yeah, like what? *sarcastic*
Friend: You are a nice girl (just a little mean sometimes), catholic and have no bad habits.
Ade: I didn’t know you can be this sweet! *sarcastically surprised*
Friend: These are not the nicest yet. I’m saving them.
Ade: Saving it for?
Friend: When I need it.
Ade: Gutted. Speechless.

Not quite speechless. I was very tempted to say, "Are you saving it when you get your hands in my pants?" (Yeah, I know this doesn’t sound like me… but men are pigs, most of them are!)

Before we got to that ‘interesting’ bit of conversation, we were talking about random ’stuff’ (read: Do you have a boyfriend? Why not? I’m sure you have plenty offers…)

My replies:
Nope. No boyfriend. I’m pretty happy with current state. Yes, there were offers but I wouldn’t call them great offers…)

Somehow, we came into a conclusion… men these days (before you can call me a femenist, I shall say, MOST men these days, will not date a girl who won’t want to let his hands get into you-know-where)

So yeah, I am a nice girl (just a little mean) and I am pretty happily single and yes; I think guys, most guys have ulterior motives and have low or no patience.

Call me defensive or whatever. That’s just how it goes… for now. Until someone changes my mind, someday, somehow.

Hello hello! After a month of torment (read: living home without an internet access), I am baaaack! It feels good to be lying on my bed and typing frantically on the new keyboard again! I won’t say I’m back by popular demand *chuckle* but hey, I do know I have some faithful readers out there. *wink*

And so… for the past one month or so I had been suppressing emotions - the good and especially the bad ones ‘offline. The consequence is damaging; it took a big toil on my spirit. It felt like a long term constipation!

I am just so glad to be back at this familiar space and fully express myself whenever I need to. So please will you forgive me if I have let the words spill a little too much today…

The fact is that my brain is slowly shutting down while my eyelids are finding themselves almost too resistable to stay opened as now type. Lucky you, there will not be any LONG entry today after all! My bed is beckoning me. Let’s catch up later.

There will be LONG entries after I get some decent sleep. This I promise ya!

It’s 1.52 pm Saturday afternoon. Here I am, still in my PJ, sitting on the same spot where I spend hours blogging and chatting with friends online. The classical music playing at the background soothes my nerves. I thought I had a minor hang-over after downing 2 glasses of Lychee Martini, few sips of Magarita and one sip of white wine at Alexis last night. Did I tell you how delicious Lychee Martini is?! The sweet lychee taste is just irresistable!

Oh by the way, I’m not really a drinker… I used to go by the line, ‘I don’t drink’ but now that has to change to ‘I drink occasionally’. He he… it’s a wonder how working life changes people. I was once the wide-eyed doll who didn’t drink a sip of alcohol. Now I’m going, ‘Excuse me, one more Lychee Martini please.’ Ha, speaking about the changes! After two glasses of yummy Lychee Martini, the whole world started to float. My feet became so light and I thought I was floating! Geez, I wonder what would happen next if I had another glass of Lychee Martini! Hmm, you know what, sometimes I am curious about the things I’d do if I ever get drunk… Would I do things  that I wouldn’t do when sober (e.g. slapping someone in the face or picking my nose in public… Eeuuw!!!)

Ahh, the classical music… now I’m feeling posh and very royalty-like. My room is my castle and the world is my osyster. Hmmm, don’t ask me why I said that… hehehe… just a random thing that come to mind, you know? I think I must still be high on alcohol… hmmm…

Okay, I need to stop talking about random things. But you see, I am not good with goodbyes and it’s sad that I had to say goodbye to a friend last night. Vicky is the toughest girl (mentally) I met in my project. We joined the project on the same day and after 1.5 years she is about to spread her wing to make her mark in another country. Thinking back the first day we met it feels just like yesterday. She was in a red turtleneck smiling at me as she approached the group. I thought she was a consultant!

We’ve come to know each other more in the course of 1.5 years. She’s definitely like a sister to me. Not trying to get all sentimental and stuff but I do think that her presence in the project will be strongly missed! I, for sure will miss her. The little chats and heart to heart talk we had… She’s always there when I needed to talk to someone. People say you should count your blessing and that is exactly what I am doing. I am trully blessed to have worked with the most wonderful people in a company where competition by right, should be really stiff. Yet, this is the last thing I feel in the project.

Last night I stubbornly backed away tears in my eyes when I knew the time had come to bid goodbye to Vicky. I thought I saw her eyes glistened… For a girl who doesn’t show much emotion… I thought I just saw the softest side of her. It could just be my imagination, it could be the Lychee Martini but nonetheless it was two friends giving each other one last hug for the year. Deep down I know it was not our last goodbye. Some day, some times, our path will cross again. I am so sure that the friendship is going to lavish and grow stronger despite the distance. I now have another strong reason to travel to Down Under.

Vicky, if you are reading this… I know you will make things happen for yourself and you don’t need me wishing you good luck. I know you will only go from strength to strength crafting your name in the future you want youself to be in. I know you will be fine and I know you and I will always be friends.

I am saying a little prayer for you. You go girl, go spread your wings and soar higher and higher now!

Now, don’t forget our Gold Coast trip! *wink* If Shearn is reading this, I am sure he will roll his eyes and start lecturing me! But until the day my little heart is claimed… I shall be on a full throttle searching for my knight in shinning armour. *GRIN*

Ermm… maybe that sounds a little too ambitious… I need hell lotta coaching in that department! hehehe…

Cheers now, to a brighter, better, banana-licious future! (ermm… I just wanted to find a third word which start with B and I couldn’t think of anything else. I know you love bananas… so there… banana-licious!!)

Au revoir mon cher ami

I am feeling pretty full of myself today, hehe… and as a result… I am diplaying my first ever picture taken after fixing the ugly metals in my mouth.

Take a deep breath now and here we go!

Ta-daaaaaaa!!!

Oh great! This picture is a wee bit too small to detect any trace of the infamous metal! But there, my supposedly sizzling hot makeover cover girl shoot. Sorry, this is the best I can get… without the sizzles of course!

After today’s virgin makeover experience, I can loudly conclude that makeover is a total myth if not a great marketing plot to cash in more money for the cosmestic company! Well, maybe it does not apply to everyone but it does definitely apply to little missy here! Well, if you do get a chance to see my so-called makeover potrait (which was supposed to make me look like a million dollar instead of one ringgit) you will get the drift. Too bad, I don’t have a soft copy unless I scan the photo… Anyway, not that I’m too keen to show it around… So we’ll see… if it occurs to me I might just get it scanned and uploaded it here.

Thinking back, I got all psyched up just yesterday at the prospect of looking like a smoking hot supermodel (excluding the petite physique that I own) after the makeover. I know I might have imagined slightly to the point of exaggeration but hey, isnt’ makeover supposed to turn an ugly duckling into a gorgeous and elegant swan?! You can’t blame me for having that kind of perception giving the chance that we are now bombarded with makeover wonders on the tv every now and then! The point is, the not-so-beautiful-american-plain-Janes at the end of the show usually turn out to be drop dead gorgeous and manage to make their friends and families go ga-ga without fail.

So yeah, I thought makeover is supposed to do magic and perform miracles. It turned out quite the opposite, on me. Instead of looking like a million dollar, I felt that I’d been so cheaply dressed up for the photo shoot. To begin with, the dress I was wearing was no where near my normal size. I know, I know. I am small and everything but hey, they should have been more well prepared! Heaven knows Asian girls are born petite and how could they not have size 0 or XS for their petite customers like me?! Instead of donning nice and fitting dress, I was wrapped up like a mini dumpling in a loose blue dress which was supposed to look so sexy on the right body.

Yeah, blame the genes. But standing as ‘tall’ as 150 cm for the past 23 years, I’m sort of getting used breathing the air at that altitude! But I’ve been thinking to compose some friendly emails to the designers. It’s time for them to realize not all girls are born 6 ft’ 12 and not everyone has big feet! How silly of them; I bet they would make billions if they just try to make their clothing a tad smaller and shoes a few inches smaller. I can guarantee, these clothes and shoes are going to be such big hits! That’s the niche market we are talking about and why are they not seeing it?! In fact, I should probably quit my job and venture into clothes-shoes-and-everything-a-petite-girl-needs-business! Now now, I need to first find myself some investors. Anyone???

Anyway, back to my makeover story… Can your head already conjure up the image of me in that hideous dress? Think bak-chang, think jubah, think super-the-not-sexy… That’s not the worst. The worst has gotta be sharing clothes with all the girls!!! Eeeuuuw!!! I had to try very hard not to think about the sweat on that blue dress. I was beyond traumatized when the girl in charge of the clothing handed me the dress which was still warm, not from the ironing but someone else’s body!!! I took a look at the dress the sleeves were all wrinkled (I willed myself not to think about smelly, sweaty and clammy armpits) and it even had shoe marks over it. What in the world… You know what happened to me next. Yes, being wrapped up like a bak-chang…

I wasn’t enjoying it at all. How come people told me makeover is a form of self-pampering?! It looks like self-torturing more than anything else! The dressing room was like the aftermath of a hurricane. It’s madness, sheer madness. Maybe I expected a little too much but you can’t hold it against someone who hadn’t gone for any makeover before… I guessed I must have ‘coated’ the whole thing with a little too much fairy dusk! No wonder my managers always stress on managing client’s expectation and now I know why!

Oh wait, I haven’t talked about the makeup and the hair. I was told that a SWEET look would suit me better by the makeup artist before she started working out her artistry on her canvas (read my face). She carefully chose the colours. Oh just great, pink and purple - the two colours I avoid using! Look, I just think they aren’t particularly flattering on me… But hey, what do I know right? The makeup artist should know better or so I thought… It turned out that my eyes looked a little puffy, thanks to the pink eyeshadow. I didn’t know how but my supposedly sweet look turned out to be pretty dramatic, yeah, thanks to the purple eyeshadow… There I was, expecting to look sweet like candy only opened my eyes to see a reflection of a sultry girl. Hmmm… maybe the makeup artists don’t always know their stuff! Grrrr…

Next stop, hair. It was perfect. To quote the hair stylist Ben, I looked sexy with the capital S. But hello, I was supposed to look sweet, remember?! What’s with the sexy look then?! My expectation obviously didn’t quite meet the work of art of Ben. Then came the biggest ‘compliment’ from Ben. ‘I don’t think you are beautiful nor cute. I think you are sexy.’  I rolled my eyes at him after hearing the comment and quipped, ‘I don’t want to be sexy. I want to be beautiful and gorgeous!’ The philosophical Ben retorted, ‘You will age and beauty will fade away with your age. But if you are sexy, it will stay that way, even in your old age. So tell me now, do you still want to be beautiful and not sexy?’ Fine, decidedly, I switched the topic before he could go on and lecture me. Apparently, he wasn’t quite done with the topic. ‘You are too skinny laaa. If you can gain a few more kilograms… your body will be so sexy!’ At this point, I wondered if I should considered myself sexually harrassed!

So yeah, the conclusion is, Ben decided to curl my hair to give the so called sexy touch. As much as I want to disagree with him, he did a great job! For that one minute when I stared into the mirror, I thought I saw a supermodel! (okay, I exaggerated again:P) My hair was nicely curled and styled to give the breeze-in-your-hair look. I gazed at the human size magazine cover and for that blink second I could almost see myself standing there tousling my new waves with the camera clicking away… Okay okay, went a little sidetrack here!

Makeup’s done, hair’s done and body badly dressed I moved to the next queue waiting to be photographed. Blimey, the photographer was so rude! I couldn’t believe he just ordered me to sit down!!! Has the universal rule changed?! I thought customer is always right and should be treated with TLC!!! I just couldn’t stand him barking down order to me like that! What a total hideous cow! Thank goodness he wasn’t my photographer. On the other hand, my photographer looked somewhat you know, your normal bloke on the street… he doesn’t really have the air of a photographer… I could only pray that I was in a professional hand! He adjusted my posture and it’s then the camera started rolling. ‘Smile’, I heard him talking to me. But, but, but… I couldn’t! Reluctantly, I spread my lips and baring two rows of metal. ‘Oh, you wear braces…’ With that he stopped demanding me to smile.

That’s exactly what went wrong with all my shots! Mum commented that I looked so fierce and my face was way too thin and that I have sunked cheeks too! Ouch! I barely smiled in all the shots. I didn’t like what I saw on the computer screen. I looked awful. The photographer did a lousy job! He should have directed me on my facial expression! There was one shot I just looked like as if I’d been possessed! Imagine eyeballs turning slightly upwards. Gooosh! It only spells h-o-r-r-e-n-d-o-u-s!!! The other shots, I looked pretty uneasy around the mouth area - tight smile or no smile at all. The braces refused to hide themselves. You can see them in almost every picture. I didn’t bother to have these shots burned into a CD. What for?! I wasn’t going to pay 70 bucks to remind myself how terribly wrong this makeover has become.

Yes, you are still following the story of makeover gone terribly wrong. Uh-ha, blame the braces. How convinient. The truth is, I should! Taking my photo in one hand and covering the mouth area with another hand, Jay Chou wannabe (the dude who developed my photo) turned to my aunt, my mum and his colleagues and said, ‘She looks like Cecilia Cheung like that. Maybe if she smiles a little bit more and err, without the braces of course.’ Geez, thanks! It did almost sound like a compliment!

At the end of the long day, my aunt concluded that I look best just the way I am. Who needs thick fake lashes and cakey foundation, anyway?!

But you see, I’ve made a pack with the guys there. I have to go back for the second makeover once I remove the braces! Yeah, a star is going to be born, on a starry April night!

I can’t stop grieving for myself. Tears haven’t stopped rolling down my cheecks since the moment I looked at myself in the mirror half an hour ago. I couldn’t believe I’m staring at myself. It didn’t look like any bit like me. It must be a mistake! The girl in the mirror, no, it’s not me!!! This is began to look like the worst nightmare I found myself waking up to. Except that nightmare isn’t real but this is!

Words are not enough to relate the state of mind I’m having now. I am so upset and angry at myself. Nothing, nothing in the world can fix this feeling. I really feel UGLY for the first time in my life. I AM U-G-L-Y!!!

I hate the sight of the metals in my mouth. They look nasty and beyond horrible. I can’t believe I did this to myself. Why would I want to wear braces at the very prime age of 23?! I trully must have lost my mind! Now I only have myself to blame… No guy is ever going to look my way. Even if any guy does he probably just wants to take a good look at me and laughs himself to death. My confidence is slipping through my fingers faster than the quicksand and I can only sink deeper to depression. I can’t defy this. Maybe I belong in a dark hole now.

My mouth is swollen; so swollen that if feels like I’ve been kissed by a hundred rowdy men, by force! But I don’t really care about my swollen lips but can someone please, please, please take away the awful metals now and make them disappear forever!!! I can’t bear the sight of myself with these stupid things. Mirror and I are through. There is no way I can look into the mirror like I used to. I adored mirror and couldn’t stop checking my reflections but these are now history. :’(

I can’t continue anymore. My tears are blurring my vision… Can someone please tell me I can pull this through…

I found myself woke up earlier than my alarm clock. It was only 4.30am when I’d fully woken up from sleep. In fact, I woke up 15 minutes before my alarm went off. It must be the excitement which had been cooking all night in my stomach. The day had come! The day I, Adeline, the V.I.P of the Sepang Grand Prix shall be cheuffeured and introduced to the cute drivers!

With that happy thoughts, I rose from my feet and headed straight to the bathroom. At forsaken hour like that I managed that with no grunts but smile. I just love the whole process of getting ready for an important event. I love to dress and doll myself up with anticipations of bumping into some cute guys. I am not DESPERATE, okay! I was just excited… Besides, what’s wrong of getting excited at the prospect of meeting some eye candies?!

I checked my reflection one last time before stepping into my heels. Perfect. They wanted me to dress in blue and here, this was as blue as I could go. White prairer blouse with baby blue tube + body hugging blue jeans + blue heels and I topped it off with a blue purple-ish flower I got from Evita. I might not look anything like a sport-bum (well, to certain extend, I might even look like a bimbo) but who cares. I was supposed to dress like a V.I.P. Contended, I headed out.

It was 6.45am when I reached Sheraton Imperial. Buzzed Audra before I went up to the room. Gosh, that girl was still sleeping! I thought breakie was at 7.00am! Anyway, there was nothing to be panicked about. I was all dressed up after all. Oh, have I mentioned that I single handedly drove all the way to Sheraton Imperial? That, that itself was an achievement. No wonder they say, when you really put your thought into something you can make it happen!

I could barely eat my breakfast. All I thought about was the Pit Lane Walk. It’s supposed to start at 8.30am and there we were, 8.40am and still not yet departed from the hotel. Geez! That’s supposed to be the hightlight of the day! As soon as the Estima arrived, we hopped in the car and the driver wasted no time vroooming off to the highway.

The level of adrenaline in my blood shot to a record new high when I smelt the grease and the burned tyre in the air! There we were, finally! We were being cheuffeured straight to the Paddock Club area. I could already see piles of tyres piling up at the side. Many kwai lou guards were standing near the gate directing the human traffic. On the right, it was some warehouse lookalike place. Blimey, there were at least 10 porches stood proudly in there! I glanced around suddenly realized there were people thronging the entrance. It was a hussle bussle near the gate. For the first time I didn’t complain about the crowd. I loved it!

Without wasting any second, we headed straight to the Pit Lane. Gosh, there were so many people already! Almost everyone came with a camera! Ohhh-Ahhh, I couldn’t stop myself!!! There, I saw David Coulthard talking intensely with his mechanics. There were girls standing beside me trying to take a photo of David Coulthard. I was in awe. It’s so different seeing these people on the telly than seeing them in real life; talking right before me! I thought I wouldn’t get star-struck but I was wrong! It’s only David Coulthard and I was already lossing myself!

I should have just called out his name and snapped a picture with him! Just before I conjured up some courage, he walked right into the garage… Blimey! I hadn’t even use my line with a little fake british accent… ‘Excuse me, Mr. Coulthard. Do I have the honour of taking a picture with you? I have always admired your skill on the racing track.’ Of coz the latter was a lie! He’s never my favourite driver! Well… I didn’t even get to lie…

Never mind, there should be other drivers further down the lane. Oh boy, the noise of the engines… It’s deafening! It’s like a parade. Everyone just hopped from one garage to another, snapping pictures. Finally we reached the garage of AT&T Williams. Richard the person in charge came to greet Audra, Carmie and I. He looked like a nice guy. We took a picture together before I moved on to the next garage. He told us that he would come up to the Paddock Club area after the Pit Lane Walk to talk to us.

That’s Mark Webber’s race car, and Jenson Button’s… I couldn’t contain myself. I know all the drivers! Carmie was impressed. Hehe… Little did she know little missy here follows F1. Suddenly everyone including the press went rushing to BMW Sauber’s garage. There, the full BMW crew were posing for photograph! I squeezed myself passed a few big guys, determined to take a few shots. I heard myself saying, ‘Excuse me, do you mind me squeezing in for a little bit?’ The words worked like magic. The big guys moved aside instantly. Gosh, the reporter’s cute and he was smiling at me! I looked up and grinned at him and got lost in his smile. Boy, I must have looked really stupid.

Quickly, I fished out my camera from my bag focusing on the boys and the cars… There, Nick Heidfeld, I was so sure he looked at my camera and posed!!! I should have just run to him and gotten someone to snap a picture. Maybe, maybe I would even appear on some international newspaper with the headline ‘Mentally unstable girl ran towards BMW first driver Nick Heidfeld, causing hoo-ha in Sepang Circuit…’

Anyways, I was on the quest searching for the scarlet car. Maybe I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of Kimi Raikkonen! I heard some really loud noise from a really powerful engine. I knew I need not look any further. I found the car! The Ferrari team was testing their pit stop timing. That was the closest I ever got with a Ferrari! I pinced my face, I wasn’t dreaming. But there was no sign of Kimi Raikkonen. It was the test driver who sat in the scarlet red stallion. Who cares, I snapped a few more pictures before the guards started chasing us out from the pit lane.

On my way out, I heard Carmie said to me, ‘Quick, look behind. There’s a guy checking you out! Quick! There, again. He is looking at you. Look behind, the guy with the ponytail!’ I didn’t know how to cope with her sudden remark. I looked behind but didn’t see any guy with a ponytail. Carmie urged again, ‘there he is, leaning at the wall. He’s checking you out! His head turned when you walked past just now! He’s still checking you out. Quick, turn back!’ The guard was urging people to leave. With one last attempt, I looked back. There he was, the cute guy with the ponytail. I smiled at him and walked away… Wow, this was getting fun!

Okay, everyone out of the Pit Lane. The practice session was about to start.With Audra and Carmies’ help, we managed to get into the Paddock Club. It’s a whole new world there! At the garden area, the aroma of coffee greeted my nostils. There were people milling about. Cute waiters and waitresses approaching people who stepped into that area with chilled drinks and some great smiles. Suddenly it seemed like your needs were their priorities. Eveytime I emptied my glass, within second a cute waiter would come by with a new glass of drinks.

At another corner, there were people massaging some tired feet. There was a caricaturist ready to draw anything you requested with ZERO charge. In fact, everything was F.O.C! You don’t pay USD4000 for nothing after all! I spotted an ice cream stand. I made an immediate mental note to come back for that later. I looked around, there were cute guys everywhere!! There, the cute guy I saw at the Pit Lane. He was giving me the look! I swore he was smiling! I smiled back… hoping that he would be one of the Williams’ guest.

There we were, at the AT&T Williams Paddock area. Too bad, that cute guy wasn’t a Williams’ guest. What a disappointment! Anyways, Richard showed up and ushered us into the room. Again, the waiters came. Juices, champagnes, wine, you name it, it will be yours the next minute… I felt like a royalty… It felt like a million dollar. I was a V.I.P!!!

The chef that day was a cute Austrian from Vienna! His name is Christian. It’s a pity that we didn’t exchange contact details! Else I will have a tour guide when I visit Vienna next time. He looked like an earnest guy. Slightly chubby but not too bad overall. We just talked and talked until an older chef came out… Then there was this Oxford dude. He was a funny guy. Reminded me of Nick. He was really funny and easygoing. So he got my name card. Boy, was I daring! It’s like being nude in a nude beach where no one on the beach knows who you are! I know it’s an odd comparison! But didn’t they say Carpe Diem?! Even though he isn’t all that cute.

Oh wait, I managed to take a picture with the Williams’ legend - Sir Jackie Stewart. I didn’t even know he’s a legend until I was told by a senior manager. He’s a 60’s champion and I am an 80’s baby… hehehe… Pardon my ignorance!! And yesterday, Audra even got that picture autographed! No wonder she’s a marketing girl!!! She said it might worth some money! Yeah, what a brilliant idea! An autographed picture, my first autographed picture with some important people!!!

I had a blast, I really did. My day ended with a strawberry ice cream. Yummmmy…

It was a life-time experience, I swear! I only hope that this kinda opportunity does come by again next year! I need a Paddock Club ticket on the Race Day this time!

Who would have thought… of all the people, I, Adeline, someone who had never won the tiniest thing in my whole life won the ballot of the year!!! My heart is still thumping at the thought of it! What could it possibly be other than my sheer Easter luck? It must be the early Easter present from the Easter bunny!

The present was a whooping USD4000 F1 Paddock Club ticket!!! And paddock club ticket is the most expensive ticket one can get. It is equivalent to the VIP ticket. Instead of standing out under the hot sun, the paddock club ticket holders wine and dine in the air conditioned area with free flow of champagne, wine and first class mineral water! There’s also free flow of ice cream and foot massage! Have I mentioned about the pit lane walk and the garage visit yet?! Can you imagine all these exclusive treatments?! Well, I can hardly believe it myself too!

It was Thursday afternoon after lunch. The day was getting a little bit slow after the heavy lunch. I was giving my presentation slides one final scrutiny before sending them out and I heard Shearn saying to me, ‘Eh, check your email now.’ I casually moved my cursor to open up my mailbox. Staring back at me was an email sent out by my project manager titled ‘Formula 1 ticket for Friday 6 April 2007 now available for balloting’. Shut up!!!!!! This must be a joke.

Eagerly, I read on…

Hi Team,

Due to some last minute cancellation by our client, we now have 1 Formula 1 ticket for Friday 6 April 2007 available. I’m putting this ticket up for balloting to the ACN team members. Please indicate with a (Yes) whether you are interested to be included in the balloting for the ticket. You need to reply back with a (Yes) vote by 5.00pm today latest in order to be eligible for the balloting. Ticket won is not transferrable or for resale. Please inform others.

Good luck.

I could barely believe what I was reading!!! Without wasting a second, I clicked on the (Yes) button.

Moments later, another email came through…

The ticket offered is for access to the Paddock (VIP area) with air-conditioning, buffet lunch and free flow champagnes etc.

It includes:

1. Complementary buffet breakfast at the Sheraton Imperial
2. Complementary transfer from Sheraton Imperial to and fro Sepang Circuit
3. Pit Lane Walk, where you can get up close and personal with all the cars and the drivers.

SHACKS!! He’s ruining my chance of winning!! Everyone’s gonna click THE button!!! I knew there were three of us replying with a ‘Yes’ before the second email shot out… Sigh, now that the probability of winning didn’t look great! With that, I told myself to stop dreaming of winning the ballot. Even though I’d love to be at the circuit for once! It will be such an experience since I’ve always been following F1 on telly… and I SO wanted to meet the Ferrari drivers and for that matter, any cute mechanics/engineers there.

By 5.00pm, my PM walked by… ‘You still have 20% of chance winning the ticket. There are only 5 people replying.’ Even so, I had a feeling Shearn probably was going to be the winner. He always wins something! Along with Syamsul and Kenny, the three of us followed our PM to the ballot room… The moment’s gonna come and I couldn’t wait!

‘So how are we doing this?’, my PM asked the three of us. Apparently he hadn’t figured a way to do the balloting. But a wiseman he is, he got some papers from J* and started to write our names on it. ‘So who wants to pick the winner?’, he looked across the room and asked. Unsure of his game plan, the guys being the perfect gentlemen themselves all pointed at me and said, ‘Adeline you go first. Go on and pick one.’ Alright, if they said so…

Lying on the table were five pieces of folded paper. I thought why should I just pick the paper from the existing arrangment… I should probably shuffle ‘em a little. After second time of shuffling, I finally picked up the only and one piece of paper which was lying away from the rest of the papers. Hesitated, I held the paper in my palm… It’s now or never, I willed myself to open it up. ‘Adeline’, it’s my name! But hang on, what did it mean? After all we hadn’t been told of the rules yet. ‘She’s the winner’, quipped my PM. You don’t have to imagine my next reaction!

OMG! OMG! OMG! I WON! I AM THE WINNER!!! I remember jumping up and down like a little girl who just received her first barbie doll. Honestly, I didn’t see this coming at all! The guys were dumbfounded! How did the balloting work?! ‘I asked you guys to pick the winner and you two asked her to. She picked her own name… What are the odds of doing that?’, quipped my PM again. He was amused! I swore he was so amused watching the whole drama unfolding in front of him. Haha… two confused and puzzled men and a delirious girl claiming her precious prize!

SO, I AM THE WINNER. Notice I don’t even bother to use the past tense. I AM the winner!!! For once in my life, for once!!! This is the most coveted prize of the year! A VIP ticket to watch F1. Well, for people who love F1, that must be an experience of a life time. Seriously! I couldn’t care less about my professional imagine. I practically bounced my way back to 25th floor. I couldn’t hide my excitement when I got back to my usual working area. I just had to SHOW OFF and GLOAT about my luck! (sorry, I really have to gloat about it this time. You don’t get to be this lucky everyday and this is not an everyday kinda luck too!)

Holding that little piece of paper with my name written across it, I went around to share my pure joy! This is not the end… the best part has yet to come. My PM came by to conduct a little prize ceremony. He handed me some cool merchandize which others can only drool on… ‘There, here’s the USD4000 ticket.’ I could only look at it while trying very hard to live in the moment, my moment!

I took a few deep breathes and suddenly remembered Audra and Carmie would be at the event too. They were the lucky marketing girls who get to attend the glamorous and happening events! I clicked on their name on my MSN and spread the good news in no time. I would be at the event too! Better still, I was going to go as a VIP! I just had to repeat this in my mouth, VIP!!!

You bet what I asked next. ‘What should I wear? Is there any dress code?!’ ‘Is it going to be really hot out there?’ Poor Audra, she was bombarded with my endless questions. ‘Yes, it’s hot, hot hot! Double meaning here, girl. So, DRESS TO KILL!’ It’s a tall order but hell yeah, I was gonna obey, GLADLY! ‘OMG, you mean, you mean there are going to be a lot cute guys?!’ ‘Yes, apparently even the mechanics are cute!’ ‘OMG, are you serious?!’, I moved my fingers even more frantically across the keyboard. Audra had just conjured up a bigger and better excitement in my guts!

‘Look I have to go home now. I’ll call you later, k? You have to, HAVE TO answer my call!’ Quickly, I packed up and went home with my arms full of Williams’ merchandize. Even so, every step I made that evening seemed to be feather-light. What a wonderful feeling. I felt like a happy little seahorse. Err, I don’t know why seahorse but it’s just felt that way.

As soon as I got in my car, I dialed Elaine’s number. I could hear her squeaking from the other end… Hahaha… I know, lucky me. Yes, I AM the lucky one. I was hoping she would be there sharing the once in a life time experience with me though. Too bad, Lady Luck wasn’t on her side that day. Someone else from her project got the ticket… Anyway, that’s not even my secondary concern. My primary concern was to spread my happiness all around!!!

You can imagine the number of calls I made… Hehehe… Audra was on my list. I just HAD TO call her to confirm a few IMPORTANT details, such as, dress code. I had a few choices in my head already but I just needed to find out if there was any black and white dress code that we must follow. ‘You have to wear the Williams’s Polo-T and a long blue pants’, came the voice of Audra. Say what?! Over my dead body! No way, I wasn’t gonna wear that oversized Polo-T!!! Didn’t she just tell me to dress to kill? I can’t even kill a fly with that hideous Polo-T, let alone the sizzling hot gems I was gonna meet. I slumped into my driving seat. There had to be a way… I DON’T FREAKING WANT TO BE SEEN IN THAT POLO-T!!! ‘So what are you going to wear?’, Audra asked again. ‘I don’t know… I haven’t made up my mind maan. I need to go back and have a look at my wardrobe.’

The last I checked my shortlisted list before I got into my car, the list read:

1. White cocktail dress from xoxo (or)
2. Purple cocktail dress from Miss Selfridge
3. White Prairie inspired Guess blouse (or)
4. Cute little pink halter Guess top (or)
5. Black Miss Selfridge shorts (or)
6. All time favourite - Mini skirt from Topshop
7. Gold Aldo sandals (or)
8. Baby blue Lewre sandals (or)
9. White HushPuppies sandals (or)
10. Pink Elle pumps

‘By the way, you are advised to wear comfortable shoes since there will be a pit lane walk. You will need to walk a little bit.’ Wait a minute, comfortable shoes = flats!! ‘NOOOOOO, please don’t make me wear them! To me heels are very comfortable! I can run in it! Not a worry in the world, man!’, I wailed… ‘Hahaha, well, if heels are comfortable enough for you…  you can just wear ‘em.’ Pheeeew, no flats! Yay! It’s bad enough I had to overwrite my cocktail dresses. There is nothing in the world can stop me from wearing my heels! Nothing!

I yakety yak yak away on how one should never wear something which is totally ill-fitted. Finally, Audra relented… ‘Well, you can wear your own top. But please, it should be business casual! and no shorts!’ Yay! No more Polo-T! I sure was determined!

I could barely conceal my excitment later that night. I had all my clothes chose and ironed. I even had the matching sandals to go with. There’s only one thing in my mind. I must look my best!

I went through my checklist again:

1. Paul & Joe Blotter –> checked
2. Anna Sui Lip’s gloss –> checked
3. M.A.C compact powder –> checked
4. Anna Sui blusher –> checked
5. Paddock Club Ticket –> checked
6. Sun lotion –> checked
7. Mobile phone –> checked

Okay, it looked like I had everything else covered. With a smile I said a quick prayer and summoned myself to bed. Ahhh, what a Thursday I had! Extraordinary Friday, wait up, here I come!